


Midnight Daydreams

by EclecticMuse



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Marching Band, Space Rollerblades
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 10:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10897779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclecticMuse/pseuds/EclecticMuse
Summary: A collection of Tumblr ficlets, prompts, and AU snippets that might never get the full treatment, all dedicated to the Fitzsimmons ship from Agents of SHIELD. Mostly AUs, but there might be bits of canon sprinkled in.





	1. The Historian AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This came from my long-standing wish to do a Fitzsimmons AU out of the Elizabeth Kostova novel The Historian, and in an attempt to get it out of my system, I adapted one of the scenes from the book. However, through discussions with some people, if I DO end up doing an adaptation of the novel (and I think I eventually will), it will likely end up going in a very different direction from anything that would incorporate this scene. So, I'm putting it here for posterity.

When Jemma awoke from her nap, Fitz was still gone, and the train was still bustling along, rocking her gently where she sat. But she wasn’t alone.

There was a man sat on the bench across from her, reading a newspaper. The wide spread of the pages hid his face from her view; the only thing she could see of him was his legs and feet. Jemma sat up slowly, blinking away the fog of sleep, and took in what she could of her new, silent companion. He was wearing black trousers, neatly pressed, and expensive-looking shoes. He continued to read quietly, taking no apparent notice of her, without even shuffling the paper.

After a moment, feeling slightly ill at ease but unable to pinpoint why, Jemma turned to look out the window at the passing countryside. It was odd that someone had come in to sit in her compartment while she was alone, asleep, and the possibility that this stranger might have been watching her while she slept unnerved her more than she cared to admit. But what could she do about it? She considered going to the dining car to join Fitz for awhile, but she didn’t want to leave their bags behind with someone they didn’t know. Not that she had any reason to believe the silent man before her would go through their things, but her inexplicable unease had only grown in the few minutes she’d been awake, compounding the urgency she already felt over reaching the monastery.

It was only after a few more minutes of staring out the window that Jemma was finally able to discern what it was about the man that had her feeling on edge: the whole time she’d been awake, he hadn’t made a single sound or movement, not even to turn a page of his newspaper.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled.

But just as she was rethinking going to find Fitz, the man spoke without lowering the paper.

“Where is your father?”

The voice was quiet, clipped, in English with a slight hint of an accent that she couldn’t place, and it made her blood freeze in her veins. Her breath caught, and before she was aware of what she was doing, Jemma had lurched from her seat and dove for the door, fumbling in a panic at the latch. It was closed--had the man drawn it to, or had Fitz done it to give her privacy while she slept? Fortunately, it wasn’t locked; after a fear-crazed second it came open and she bolted down the aisle in the direction of the dining car, not even stopping to listen or see if the strange man had followed her.

In the dining car, Fitz was sat in a booth at the far end, engrossed in reading his tablet. A cup of tea and a half-finished sandwich sat by his elbow. He looked up at the sound of her heavy footfalls, and his brow creased at the abject fear writ across her face. “Jemma?”

“Oh god, Fitz--” Without thinking, Jemma slid into the booth next to him, reaching for him, seeking out his now-familiar warmth. “I woke up and there was a strange man in our compartment, reading the newspaper.”

“Yeah?” Fitz’s arm had automatically gone around her, but his hand was hesitant at her shoulder. “What’s got you so upset about that?” His arm tightened slightly. “Christ, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I couldn’t see his face, and he--he--” Jemma turned from where she’d had her own face pressed against Fitz’s neck, and looked toward the door to the dining car. No one was there, no suggestion of a dark and foreboding stranger come to chase after her. “He asked about my father.”

Fitz’s body went stiff. “What?”

She nodded, struggling to breathe normally, and sat up a bit. “He asked where he was. In English. I--I panicked, I ran straight here to you, but--it doesn’t look like he followed me.” She swallowed thickly as a thought occurred to her. “I left our luggage there in the compartment.”

Fitz let out a slow breath. “Right. Okay.” He pursed his lips for a moment before nudging her aside. “Here, let me--” Jemma stood to let him out of the booth, crossing her arms over her stomach, and watched as he signaled the lone waiter manning the car. While they spoke quietly in French, Jemma reached over to pick up Fitz’s tablet and slip it into her satchel, which was still slung across her body. She’d fallen asleep with it that way. 

When Fitz finished with the waiter, he came back to her, digging in his pocket for some change to leave as a tip. “Okay, here’s the deal,” he said to her in a low voice. “The next stop is at Boulois, in about fifteen minutes. We can get off there.”

Jemma’s hands twisted anxiously into fists. “What about our luggage?”

He shook his head. “We might have to leave them.” He gestured at her. “You’ve got your bag and I’ve got my wallet, so...” Then his eyes went wide, and he looked sharply at her. “The letters--”

“I’ve got them,” she said, patting her satchel. 

Fitz’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. Alright, come on.” He took her hand, pulling her along behind him as he swiftly made for the back of the dining car. Jemma followed, her nerves still tingling with fright, but she looked around in surprise when Fitz led her straight into the kitchen. However, only the waiter was there, rushing up behind them and gesturing for her and Fitz to slip into a narrow niche near the refrigerators, hidden from view of anyone who might come looking. Fitz motioned for her to go ahead of him; then he crowded in beside her, facing her, their chests nearly pressed together in the tight space. Then he gave her a grim smile.

“Paid the waiter off,” he murmured. “Probably thinks you’re my girlfriend or something now.”

Indeed, when Jemma looked past him to where the waiter had gone back to hover near the door to the dining car, the other man gave her a wink and a secret little grin. He thought she and Fitz were lovers, then, trying to escape her disapproving father or something else equally as ludicrous. But she didn’t even have it within her to roll her eyes; she was still terrified, wondering when and if the strange dark man would come to find them, and it showed in the way she shivered as she shuffled a minuscule step forward into Fitz’s space. He responded by gently curling his hands around her upper arms, his thumbs rubbing circles into the sleeves of her blouse, and his eyes on hers were steady. It felt right, clutching each other as they hid themselves away, and Jemma’s fears eased ever so slightly. Fitz would keep her safe.

They stayed that way in silence for fifteen minutes that seemed to last an eternity, until finally the train began to slow, jostling them where they stood, and then stopped. The waiter came forward to push a lever, and a nearby door opened, allowing them their escape. Fitz went first.

“Stay right next to the train,” he said, keeping a hand on her arm, “and tell me if you see him.”

Jemma peered around Fitz’s shoulder where they stood on the pavement, searching the crowd of passengers disembarking the train at the platform. She sucked in a sharp breath when she saw him--tall and menacing in his dark suit, surrounded by a palpable aura of an evil  _ other _ , a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his face.

“That’s him,” she whispered, unconsciously taking a step back behind Fitz. “There in the hat.”

“Right, I see him,” Fitz muttered, and turned to push her back up onto the steps of the train. “Stay out of sight. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Jemma stayed well within the shadow of the door, watching Fitz’s eyes narrow as he tracked their subject.. “Okay, he’s walking to the other end of the platform. No, wait--he’s coming back. Looks like he’s checking in the windows.” His hand tightened over her arm. “I think he’s--Christ, what a right bastard, he knows what he’s doing. Just checked his watch. Getting back on--no,  _ bugger _ , he’s coming this way.” Fitz looked back up at her, his eyes wide. “We’re gonna have to go back in and run the length of the train. Get ready.”

Just then, the train lurched. Jemma swayed on the step, and Fitz’s hand gripped her even tighter, before he blew out a harsh breath. “Thank god, he’s getting back on the train. I think he thinks we’re still on it.” He pulled her back down onto the platform next to him just as the train heaved again and started back up. As it began to draw away, Jemma thought she saw the man in one of the windows, looking out at them, and his impotent fury at having missed them was palpable even across the distance that separated them.

The train picked up speed, pulling around a curve, then was gone. In the late afternoon quiet that remained, Fitz turned to look at her, and she realized that, aside from a few people departing the tiny station, they were completely alone in the middle of rural France.


	2. "Don't make it into a big deal!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "don't make it into a big deal" for percussa-resurgo on Tumblr.

As he hurried out into the chilly night air, drawing his coat closed around him, Fitz couldn’t believe how quickly things had gone downhill. On one hand, he shouldn’t have been surprised--there was a reason he never went to the parties his classmates threw--but on the other, things had actually been going well for once. It had been lulled him into a false sense of security. Then someone had suggested a game of Truth or Dare, he’d foolishly agreed to play, and now he was paying the price for it, the sting of his classmates’ laughter still ringing in his ears.

He’d chosen Truth when it was his turn, believing it to be the safe option. His mouth twitching up in a smirk, Hunter had asked him to name the hottest girl in the room. Fitz should have answered Bobbi; she really was gorgeous, after all. Everyone knew it, and no one would have doubted his choice. But then he’d caught his lab partner’s eyes across the circle, her expression bright and curious, and he’d been unable to keep himself from blurting the truth. Jemma Simmons was, by far in his opinion, the hottest girl in  _ any _ room, and he’d thought so ever since they’d been paired up together in Chemistry class. She was kind and funny, amazingly brilliant, and didn’t seem to mind his awkward attempts at friendship. He’d been nursing a hopeless crush on her for the better part of the year.

The moment he’d said her name, a chorus of  _ oooohs _ and catcalls had gone up around him. Jemma had blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing prettily before she’d looked down, biting her lip. Elena, who was sitting to his left, had elbowed him teasingly, singing “Fitz has a crush!” Hunter picked up on the chant, and then everyone else had too, until it became too much for Fitz to bear. His face burning, he’d made his excuses and grabbed his coat, making a hasty exit. He suspected it would be a long time before he let Daisy wheedle him into doing anything social again.

He was halfway down the street, considering calling Mack and asking him to come pick him up, when he heard her voice behind him.

“Fitz!”

If anything, he only walked faster. Facing Jemma at school on Monday would be hard enough as it was. Now would just be a disaster.

She wasn’t deterred by his speed. “Fitz, wait!” she called again, and a moment later Fitz felt her hand snag on his elbow, pulling him to a stop and turning him to face her. She was struggling to catch her breath, winded from running after him, and her face was pale in the glow of the streetlights. She hadn’t stopped to get her own coat; she was already shivering against the cold air.

“Fitz,” she repeated, her hand dropping from his arm. “Why did you leave?”

He gaped at her. “ _ Seriously _ ? You heard them, they were all laughing at me.” Christ, he sounded like a petulant child. “I--I just--I didn’t want to be there anymore, that’s all.”

“But did you mean it?” Jemma’s eyes were still bright, looking almost hopeful. “What you said.”

Fitz briefly considered lying, but decided against it. “Of course I did,” he muttered. Then he grimaced, immediately regretting being truthful when he saw her mouth drop open, and squeezed his eyes shut. “Look,” he said, waving her off, “don’t...don’t make it into a big deal, okay? You know you’re beautiful, everyone knows it--”

“Oh, like you didn’t make it into a big deal already by running away?” Jemma asked. “Very dramatic, if you ask me.”

When he cracked open his eyes to look at her, she was smiling, but it did little to reassure him. He heaved a sigh. “Right. Maybe. Can we just--forget this happened? I didn’t say anything. You heard nothing.”

“I don’t want to.” Jemma took a step toward him and reached out a hand to rest against his crossed arms, a determined look on her face. “What if I told you I thought you were the most handsome man in the room?”

It was his turn to blink in surprise. “I...I’d think you were mental,” he said slowly.

She tilted her head. “Why?”

Fitz huffed shortly. “Jemma, you dated  _ Will Daniels _ , for god’s sake. He’s--he’s--” He uncrossed his arms and gestured wildly. “Tall and athletic and perfect and--everything I’m not.”

Jemma’s smile widened. “Do you have a crush on Will, too?”

Horrified, he felt his face flush crimson again. “No!”

She laughed, the sound like tinkling bells, before sobering and crossing her arms against the chill air. “You’re nothing like Will, you’re right,” she said. “But that doesn’t matter to me. Yes, you’re grumpy and antisocial and stubborn when you think you’re right, but...you  _ are _ handsome, and funny, and smart, and...you’re the most interesting person I know.” Her eyes were warm, her expression earnest. “And if you asked me out, I’d say yes.”

Fitz could barely breathe. “Really?”

Jemma nodded. “Really.”

Hardly believing what was happening, unable to process it, Fitz looked at his wristwatch. It was still early. He took a deep breath. “Um...do you...uh, do you maybe...um. Do you want to go get something to--to eat?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Right now?”

The excited fluttering in his stomach crashed abruptly. “Oh--er--no, not right  _ now _ ,” he stammered. “Not if--I mean, whenever you want, doesn’t have to be right now if you don’t want to--”

“Fitz.” Jemma’s smile was dazzling. “I’d love to.” Then she made a face, her nose scrunching up adorably. “The party was kind of boring anyway. Just let me go back to get my coat.”

She made to return to the house, gesturing for him to follow, and Fitz went without question, his nerves easing away slightly. Tonight had definitely had its ups and downs, but if things kept on as they were, they were definitely going to end on a high. He couldn’t believe it. Just in case, he pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

It hurt.  _ Excellent. _

He skipped a bit to catch up with Jemma, shooting her a small smile when she looked up at him. Jemma Simmons, going on a date with _ him _ .

He couldn’t wait to get started.


	3. Jupiter Ascending AU Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right, so this AU is absolutely never going to happen, but I just really like the idea of Fitz designing and using space rollerblades, okay? Okay.

Up above them, the ship was rocked by a large explosion. Jemma tensed, clutching her arms tighter around Ward’s shoulders as she saw flaming chunks of the hull start falling towards them, but there was little time to react. Ward used his boots to push them out of the tractor beam in an effort to dodge the debris, but he wasn’t fast enough. He took a glancing blow from a small chunk of metal and the impact wrenched her from his arms, sending her free-falling down toward the city below.

She didn’t scream; it didn’t even occur to her to do so. She could barely see Ward now, the blue lights of his boots fading into pinpricks the further she fell, and she knew he wouldn’t be able to catch up to her. This was it--she was going to die. She couldn’t survive a fall from this height. She might even reach terminal velocity before she hit the ground. She hoped Aegis would come up with a convincing story to tell her parents. She hoped they would take care of Skye. She hoped--

Something slammed into her from the side, nearly knocking the breath from her lungs and sending her body into a dizzying spin. It took her a second to realize that the something was in fact a  _ someone _ \--there were arms wrapped tightly around her waist from behind, and she could see the tell-tale streaks of light from the anti-grav boots as both her fall and the spin were slowed down and evened out.

“I’ve got you!” It was Fitz. He was already moving to get a better hold on her as best he could without dropping her, trying to carry her in his arms the way Ward had. Jemma was shocked speechless; she could only gape at him, gasping for breath as she wound her arms around his neck. He stared back, breathing just as heavily--she could only imagine how fast he’d had to run to catch her--before they both turned to look up at the Aegis ship.

It was heavily damaged, listing to one side and mostly engulfed in flames. In the distance they could see several smaller craft leaving the enemy ship, heading in their direction. Fitz’s grip on her tightened, his fingers digging into her.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” he said, and she looked back at him. His eyes were wide, but his jaw was set and determined. “I need you to hold on to me, okay, Jemma? Hold on tight and don’t let go. I’ve got you.” She nodded quickly, still too out of sorts for words, and squeezed her arms a little. He gave her a grim smile. “Right. Let’s go.”


	4. Jupiter Ascending AU Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more of that Jupiter Ascending AU that's never gonna happen.

Ward lead her through the airlock and into the hangar bay of the Aegis ship, which was bustling with activity. Smaller spacecraft were parked in rows on opposite sides of the bay, leaving a clear path for takeoff in the center. Technicians and other assorted personnel hurried back and forth between them. Jemma took it all in with wide eyes, feeling more than a little out of her depth--she was on a  _ spaceship _ , in  _ space _ \--and had to jog to catch up with Ward when her gaze lingered too long and she forgot to keep up.

They went through an exit and down a short corridor lined with doors. Ward stopped in front of one of them and held up his wrist; a scanner attached to the wall next to the door scanned the cuff he was wearing, and the door opened with a quiet swish. Jemma followed him inside into what looked like a small holding room with a window set into the far wall, looking out onto the inky blackness of space beyond. Two people were next to it, talking quietly. They turned when the door opened.

“Skye!” Jemma cried, rushing past Ward to throw her arms around her roommate in a hug. “Thank god you’re okay!”

For her part, Skye was just as happy to see Jemma, squeezing her so tightly it made her ribs ache. “Oh my god, no, thank god  _ you’re _ okay!” she exclaimed, before pulling back to grab Jemma by the shoulders. “This is totally insane! I’d just got home from work and was thinking about ordering takeout when Trip here showed up and said I had to come with him because the apartment wasn’t safe.” She gestured to the man standing by the window, a tall, well-built man with dark skin and a friendly smile. He waved. “Of course, I wanted to know  _ why _ , and he said it was because  _ aliens _ were after you, and I didn’t believe him until the aliens actually  _ showed up _ \--”

“Wait,” Jemma said, cutting Skye off. “They really did come to our apartment?” She glanced briefly at Ward before turning back to Skye, her hands coming up to twist uneasily below her chin. “Oh, no. All of our things…”

Trip spoke up then, coming to stand next to Skye. “Don’t worry, Dr. Simmons. I don’t think any damage was done to your apartment, but if there was, we’ll cover any necessary repairs.”

She managed a smile at him, feeling the tension in her shoulders relax a little. “Thank you, um, Trip…?”

“Antoine Triplett,” he said, reaching out to give her a firm handshake. “But you can call me Trip.” 

Jemma gave him a more genuine smile--she liked him immediately--and gave a firm nod of her head. “Trip it is.” Then she turned to Ward. “Skye, this is Grant Ward. He helped me get out of the city.”

Ward smiled briefly and nodded his head in greeting. Skye gave him an appreciative look before leaning in towards Jemma and nudging her with her elbow..

“Are all the Aegis agents this hot and ripped?” she stage-whispered, nodding to both Ward and Trip. “Because, you know, I could really get used to this.”

Just then the door swished open and Fitz walked in, eyes trained on a tablet in his hand. Skye crossed her arms, looking him over and pursing her lips. “Okay, maybe not all of them.”

Fitz looked up and froze, his eyes darting between them, realizing that Skye had found him lacking but not quite sure in what way. Trip hid a grin behind one hand. 

“Skye!” Jemma hissed, feeling oddly defensive of him. “Fitz saved my life!”


	5. College Marching Band AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this eons ago, with full intent to develop a college marching band AU based on my own fun-filled four years spent in the institution, but it keeps getting pushed back. Plus, I'm not sure anyone would actually want to read it. Anyway, here's Skye helping Fitz get ready for the band Halloween party.

“There! All done.” Skye set her brush down on his desk and turned him by his shoulders to face the full-length mirror attached to the bathroom door. “You look hot!”

Fitz swallowed and frowned at his reflection. “I look like an electrocuted poodle.”

Skye rolled her eyes. “ _ No _ , you look like you’re ready to party rock. Jemma is going to _ love _ it, trust me.”

“Um...probably not.” He pivoted slightly, scrutinizing himself. The yellow tiger-print skinny jeans and white t-shirt only accentuated how weedy he was, and he was pretty sure Jemma was into more muscular guys like Trip or Ward. “I don’t think I’m her type.”

“Bullshit.” Skye waved a dismissive hand as she packed her hair dryer and brushes back into her bag. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She isn’t going to be able to take her eyes off that cute little butt of yours in those jeans.”

Fitz’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open, letting out an indignant squawk as he clapped both hands over his backside. “Skye!” he screeched, turning and backing up against the bathroom door. “You have  _ not _ been checking out my arse!”

Skye gave him a sly smirk, but anything she might have said in reply was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Ooh, that’ll be Jemma,” she said, and waggled her eyebrows at him as she crossed the room to the door. “It’s showtime!”


End file.
